The Fight
by Nyx6
Summary: An unexpected opportunity gives Dean the chance to show what he's made of - much to the surprise of an awestruck Sam. Missing scene from 'What Is and What Should Never Be,' set just after the birthday dinner.


This is a little something I would like to have seen in the episode. Kind of explains a little bit more why Dean chooses to go back to hunting (as well as the guilt) and maybe why Sam chooses to get into the car with him later on. Basically, it just deepens the wish-world Dean's 'myth', as well as presenting me with the shameless opportunity to have Dean in both full-on fight and thoughtful/lonely mode - in short, it's me being selfish! Enjoy!

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**The Fight.**

If anyone in Lawrence had ever heard of valet parking then apparently they'd failed to implement it into a business plan and instead the five of them had been forced to park the car a couple of streets down and walk. Classy.

Sam had offered to go and get it as they'd stepped out of the restaurant and back into the fresh evening chill, watching as the women huddled close under shawls and dresses that whilst looking lovely, provided little in the way of heat. Besides since they'd taken his rental car it seemed only fair he go and bring it around for them.

Dean had offered to go with him with the sort of enthusiasm they'd obviously associated with a small child, four pairs of eyes sliding his way in surprise. But the truth was Dean spent so much time with Sam usually he was beginning to miss the one-on-one time, and even if it was just a five minute walk with a Sam that wasn't technically _his_ and seemed to be more mature than he'd ever seen, he was happy to take it. So he and Sam had set off with their collars up against the wind and left the women huddled on the steps talking about whatever it was that women who were close to one another talked about. Never having had a woman in his life long enough to know what that might be, Dean was happy to leave them to it.

"So," Sam began from beside him suddenly and just as Dean was beginning to think the strained silence was all he was going to get, "You going to tell me what happened back there?"

_His_ Sam would have asked the same question with a hint of worry and a soft tone that implied he wasn't trying to pry, this Sam – the full-on-college-boy version – asked with a sigh of irritation. Dean frowned, hating that he felt small under the suspicious gaze. _He_ was the older brother damn it,

"Back where?"

"The restaurant. Any reason why you suddenly took off across the room like you'd seen a ghost?"

Well, funny you should mention that…Instead he simply shrugged,

"Just thought I saw someone I knew,"

"In a restaurant?" clearly wish-world Dean was not a guy who frequented fancy French-named eateries very often, then again neither was real-life Dean so as it turned out Sam's frown of surprise would have been pretty apt in either reality. Go figure.

"Yeah, but err…it wasn't."

Sam still looked doubtful but he obviously decided not to pursue it and instead lengthened his stride so that Dean got the decided impression his younger brother was annoyed with him. There came the shrinking feeling again. Jeez, who knew Sam's disapproval could make him feel about three feet tall?

"So, uhh, Sammy…" he began lightly in the renewed silence, adding something like a laugh as he sped up to draw alongside him, "How's college, huh? Everything going okay? Doing all your work?" he grinned suddenly, "Top of your class I bet."

Sam blinked, the frown flickering across his brow again as he suddenly stopped dead, his expression killing Dean's light-hearted grin in a second. Somewhere along the line, he'd pushed too far,

"Dean," he snapped before softening slightly, some of the fire dying from his eyes to be replaced with doubt, "Are you all right?"

He seemed concerned and just for a second Dean thought he looking at _his_ Sammy. Not that this wasn't his Sammy too just – God if he'd been sane in the first place he'd have needed years of therapy over this one. Instead he just fell back on the trusty shrug,

"I'm fine. Why?"

"It's just you've been a bit…" Sam paused, obviously not wanting to hurt any feelings, "Weird since we got here, _before_ we got here," he amended as he thought back to the drunken phone call.

'_I don't know_, _I don't know where I am.'_

But if he'd been expecting an answer from Dean then he didn't get one, as his brother simply shook his head in a clueless, _I don't know what you're talking about_ gesture. Sam sighed again, what had he been thinking? As if Dean was ever going to open up. Shaking his head, Sam sped up once more, easily outpacing his brother as he stalked ahead. Dean got the message, hanging back a little and as much as Sam hated to admit it, he almost preferred it that way.

The hands that suddenly wrapped around the collar of his jacket however caught him completely by surprise and as they jerked him roughly to one side pulling him off balance, he stumbled into the mouth of the ally he'd been passing and banged up against the wall with a thud and a wince.

What –

Instantly the hands tightened their grip and as he opened his eyes against the ringing in his head he found himself looking into the half-masked face of a man holding a knife. Two others materialised behind him.

"Give us your money," the first growled, noticing belatedly that Sam's eyes hung so glued to the knife in terror that he could barely get his mouth to respond. The hands shook him again, roughly, "I _said_ give us your money! And your phone and anything else you've got on you…no sudden moves!"

As if Sam had even been thinking about it, as if he _could_ think about anything much beyond being robbed. In his hometown of all places! What was Jess going to say? What was his mom going to say?

"Come on!"

The hands slammed him backwards again, driving his shoulders into the brick and finally Sam managed to find his voice,

"Okay, okay," he began breathlessly, holding up his hands helplessly, "Just – ,"

He panicked as the grip around his throat tightened to a sudden choke-hold in the face of his attempted appeasement, scrabbling to get a hold around the wrist and only barely registering a forth figure step into the alleyway behind them, unnoticed by his masked assailants.

"You boys lost?"

Everyone turned abruptly, the hands loosening around Sam's throat as the threesome spun on their heels to observe the newcomer, stood with his head dipped so low that the only visible feature was a flash of white teeth under a devilish smile. Dark eyes glinted dangerously in the dim light and somewhere within Sam flared a hint of startled recognition._ No way…_

Stepping further forwards into the light Dean looked up calmly, surveying the scene before him with a disarming coolness. His customary smirk sat firmly in place across his lips and at his sides balled fists tensed desperately for action. As the adrenaline began to pump around his system he let out a dry chuckle, relishing the anticipation. He'd been walking around like a headless chicken for the past twenty-four hours in a world he had no idea how to act in, suddenly for the first time he felt in control. Bring it on.

In front of Sam the man with the hold on his lapels turned to point the knife towards Dean in a clear warning,

"Back off pal," he snarled, voice obscured by the dark scarf tied around the bottom half of his face,

"Unless you want to be next."

"You first," Dean grinned again, eerily calm, crouching low and bringing his fists up in front of his face in an unmistakable challenge. For a second he seemed so possessed with quiet rage and, well, _eagerness_ that Sam could have sworn he was looking at another person. An insane one. Dean couldn't fight three men at once. He was a _mechanic_. Oh God, it was not going to end well.

Abruptly and almost as if triggered by a hidden switch, one of the three would-be robbers suddenly surged forwards with a weighty right hook, yelling as he threw everything he had behind it. Sam's breath caught in his throat in horror but by the time he'd blinked Dean had moved, stepping back a fraction and missing the arc of the punch altogether. Instead he grabbed the arm as it barrelled past his face, gripping the elbow, pulling the man into an awkward off-balance stagger and delivering a swift knee to the gut. Just as quickly as he'd done that he released the arm and drove his knuckles up into the face, snapping back the head with frightening ferocity and leaving a cascade of blood from a newly-broken nose. Dean hardly moved an inch in the course of the exchange, but watched with a sense of grim satisfaction as his larger opponent stumbled, hands to his pouring nose and tripped over backwards onto his backside.

Sam blinked, completely bewildered by what he had seen and tipping an open-mouthed stare of amazement up towards his brother. Dean caught the look instantly and grinned wider, shrugging almost self-effacingly. _What, that? Nothing special._

"Dean!" as Sam's eyes widened from awe to alarm and his tone rose to a shout, Dean spun to find the second guy descending through the air at him with a raised baseball bat. He rose hands to meet it instantly, stopping the assault and ignoring the shiver of pain that seared across his hands at the impact.

He could worry about that later. The second guy however was apparently not so much of a slouch as the first, and although his hands were disabled he was quick to raise a foot and plant it in Dean's midriff. As the air rushed out of him and he bent forwards in pain, the bat was pulled from his fingers and the man came at him again with a full-on swing that was aimed squarely for his side. Again however Dean caught it, stepping back and pulling hard on the other end of the bat, swinging the guy around like they were re-creating a more violent rendition of the scene from Titanic before piling him into the side of a dumpster with a vicious clang. It was all very well putting masks over your face to rob someone, but it did kind of dampen the peripherals. Still, Dean figured wryly, lesson learnt no doubt.

As large arms encircled him from behind he dropped the bat to the ground with a clatter, watching as the man who'd been holding Sam up against the wall turned with a narrow-eyed glare and strode forward with the knife. Sam stumbled away from the brickwork on shaking legs, unable to stop what he knew was about to happen yet unable to tear his eyes away.

_No…no!_

Dean however, didn't seem so perturbed and though his face creased with exertion as he tried to wrench his arms up and out from under the backwards bear-hug, he still seemed to be in game-mode. As the guy with the knife stomped closer, Dean looped his foot underneath the discarded bat and fired it upwards with surprising speed and accuracy straight at Stabby McStabbington's head, causing him to stagger backwards. He wasted little time after that, driving back his skull into the already broken and heavily bleeding nose of the guy pinning him, successfully procuring the release of his arms. Another punch sent Big Tubby down for good, crying, Sam duly noted. Then he spun back again, grabbing the knife-hand of the obvious self-appointed leader and slamming him back against the wall, pounding the knuckles against the brick until the weapon fell from his hand and skittered across the floor. As the guy who'd collided with the dumpster staggered belatedly towards the fight, Dean ducked easily, letting the feeble punch crash over his shoulder into knife guy and adding a backwards elbow-jab of his own to send him back onto the floor.

That just left now-knife_less_ guy, who found himself pressed to the wall as Sam had been moments before, although he was whimpering and gasping for breath,

"Okay, man…o-okay, just please – ,"

He didn't get any further because Dean grabbed up chunks of his jacket and leant in dangerously close,

"You ever try shit like this again, I _will_ hunt you down. Got it?"

A frantic nod met his question and as Sam stood watching in amazement, even he felt a shiver of fear pass through him. Dean clearly meant every word of what he was saying and dear God where in the hell had he learnt to fight like that?

"Good," he growled finally, letting go of the guy and turning to walk away. He seemed to know the man was going to swing at his back even before Sam did, spinning and delivering one final blow that sent the robber's head bouncing backwards off the bricks and delivered him straight into blissful oblivion. Sam felt as if he might be sick, with fear, shock and…well, more shock, watching as Dean stepped over the still blubbering broken-nose guy and brushed his hands absently. He closed the distance between them rapidly, expression suddenly serious,

"You okay Sam?" he asked, clapping a hand to his brother's shoulder. Sam nodded, dumbstruck,

"Uh – ye – I…"

Dean grinned suddenly, a snort of amusement breaking his brother's babbling as he gazed down with amusement,

"What were you going to do with that?" he asked with a smile, nodding at the baseball bat clutched in Sam's trembling hands. Sam followed his gaze bewildered,

"I – I don't know."

Although he'd grabbed it when Dean had been going one-on-one with the knife-wielding psycho, not wanting to see his brother stabbed to death in front of him and unaware that at no point had that apparently been an option. He dropped it, suddenly embarrassed.

"Dean – ," he began instead, face screwing up in disbelief as he indicated the carnage, "What – what the hell was that?!"

"A fight Sam."

"_No_ – ," Damn he was irritating, "_You_. Where did you – I mean _when_ did you learn to fight like that?"

As Dean stared back at him casually expressionless, Sam was offered nothing but another of the unhelpful shrugs,

"I watch a lot of action movies," then abruptly he was fidgeting, keen to move, one arm outstretched in the direction of his bewildered brother, "Come on Sam. Mom and the girls are waiting for us."

Sam blinked,

"What? Dean…" he paused to take in the scattered bodies lying around them like the aftermath of some ridiculously wild party, "…aren't we going to call the cops?"

"And tell them what?!" came the incredulous reply, Dean owning a look of _don't be so stupid_ outrage Sam had never seen before, "That we just beat the crap out of a couple of guys?"

It was a nice gesture, but they both knew that using the 'we' in terms of describing who had beaten up who was completely obsolete. Still, Dean offering to share the victory was a surprise in itself. Dean wasn't usually a sharing kind of guy, or at least, that's what Sam had always believed. As it turned out there was quite a lot about Dean that Sam didn't know at all. Namely everything.

"But – ,"

"Sam," he sounded impatient, trying to keep calm as he turned back to reason with logic – and a knowledge of crime scenes – beyond his years, "Think about it. The cops show up and find the guys that 'supposedly' attacked you out for the count while you and me stand here without a scratch," which wasn't exactly true because Sam had already noticed the way Dean was gently hanging a hand over where the boot had stamped into his stomach, "What exactly are they going to think huh, law-boy?"

He had a point and one thing Sam did not need on his permanent record before he'd even graduated was an assault charge. Although he couldn't help but feel desperately uneasy as they turned away from the ally with Dean checking left and right along the street before leading Sam back out with a hand on his sleeve.

"What if they do it to someone else?" he asked in a hushed whisper, drifting along in Dean's wake like an obedient puppy. Dean didn't even look round,

"They won't. Not for a while anyway."

"How do you know?"

In front of him, leading the way with almost a cheery spring in his step Dean held up a hand, counting off items one by one on his fingers,

"Broken nose, two counts of pretty severe concussion, five broken knuckles, three maybe four broken ribs and a hell of a lot of hurt pride. Robbing people is about front Sam. No front, no game."

And again Sam was instantly intrigued that Dean knew such things, although a sudden concern ran through him at why. Perhaps that's what Dean did in his spare time? He dismissed it just as quickly. No, his older brother was a lot of things but crooked wasn't one of them. Then again, five minutes before he'd had Dean down as a drunken slacker and apparently he wasn't that either.

"Oh, and Sam…" inches from the car Dean ground to a halt, stopping and suddenly seeming sheepish, "…don't tell mom, okay? In fact, don't tell anyone."

Sam's brow crumpled in surprise,

"Huh? Why not? You just took out three guys in one go. You're…" _a hero?_ He stopped just short.

"Don't tell them Sammy."

Sammy? Again? What was with that? Eventually however he sighed, holding his hands up in submission and pulling the keys from his pocket with a shake of his head,

"Fine."

As he jammed the metal into the lock struggling with the rental car central locking system, Dean watched with something like regret as the irritation overtook Sam again. Not irritation at the Toyota, irritation at _him_, the fact that he didn't understand his older brother at all. _His_ Sammy had never had the same problem. Half the time his Sam knew what he was thinking before he did. He missed that. What he also missed was the thrill of what he had spent his whole life confronting. Danger. Mowing the lawn and having cosy family dinners had been all well and good but there was no denying the feeling that the only time he had felt _comfortable _since arriving – ironically – had been in the midst of the brawl. It was what he did and the thought of spending his whole life doing the opposite was…well, he didn't know what to think and so instead he slid quietly into the passenger seat and watched Sam grit his teeth and pull away from the kerbside to take them back to the restaurant.

Perhaps wish-world Sam couldn't be worked on. Sure Dean had their mom but without Sam it just wasn't anything like he'd imagined it would be. It wasn't good enough. Still, he wasn't about to let his mom go without a fight, Dean Winchester was anything but a quitter.

He'd give it some more time, more time to settle into a routine. Sam wasn't exactly _his_ Sam, but at least this Sam was happy – _engaged_ even – and that in turn was enough for Dean. For now.

This world could work. It _had_ to.


End file.
